Second Chance
by StormWriter18
Summary: We stood before them, or below them, while they made their decision. They might as have been the three fates playing cat's cradle with the threads of our lives. Did they know how long we had waited? Trained? What we had gone through? One-shot.


**A/N: Short oneshot. Wrote this during school today when I should have been working.**

* * *

"You must understand the difficulty of the situation."

They couldn't be saying no- they were completely out of line. I - _we_, had done everything right. We were ready. We were _needed._

They couldn't say no!

"So we're afraid it simply wouldn't be a good idea."

They were saying no!

"I understand the situation perfectly, uh, sir." I said, not sure how to address him and his colleagues who looked down on us disapprovingly from their podium. They looked different up there. Imposing. But they were just old fogies who went to the supermarket like the rest of us.

"We know this will be difficult," I continued. "But we are prepared. The Terra needs us."

The old men of the Skyknight Council murmured to each other. I caught bits of their whispers.

_Not a good-_whisper_- kids- _whisper whisper_- old enough- not ready to trust-_whisper_-does it matter?- Like it or not- _whisper_- chance- they're- _whisper_- I think we can- _whisper- _choice- _whisper…

We, that is, my team and I, stood before them, or below them, while they made their decision. They might as have been the three fates playing cat's cradle with the threads of our lives. Did they know how long we had waited? Trained? What we had gone through to be here? None of it had been particularly easy.

I felt self-conscious and angry. My uniform felt wrong on me. I had stitched it myself out of my dad's old uniform. The fabric clung and hung uncomfortably, sticking in some places and loose in others. My team behind me had also stitched their uniforms to fit. Handy-downs from the old squaddies who no longer wanted them. They hadn't used them in years. They'd never could go back to it. They'd never gotten over that one incident. A lot of people hadn't. I hadn't.

But I also wasn't going to let it stop me.

Finally, the gossipy old men were quiet and the Head Councilor turned back to us.

"We still don't think this a wise idea."

I couldn't believe it. My team started to object but I held up a hand to quiet them. I felt just as strongly about this as them - maybe more - and I wanted to yell at the Council for being stupid but I knew that wouldn't get us anywhere.

"On what grounds?" I asked.

They look surprised and unsure about how to answer.

"Well…" the Head Councillor said. "It's going to make people…_uncomfortable."_

"You'd risk the safety of the people just because we'd make them _uncomfortable?" _I said trying to make my voice incredulous. I'd got them there, so I decided to hit them while I could. I stepped forward. "I took the trials and I passed," I said. "I have a team. We're prepared, and you need us, whether it makes you comfortable or not."

The men turned to each other once more and started gossiping again.

Maybe it hadn't been a good idea to wear the uniforms. Too much of a reminder of the old squadron. _We_ were all too much of a reminder.

But we were best for the job. It was our birthright. A couple of my teammates' parents had been squaddies. My dad had been a skyknight. Tradition stated that we'd succeed the team when we were old enough. And now we were.

The councillors quieted again and the Head Councillor sighed.

"You know this won't be easy."

I tried hard not to smile like a five-year old and nodded stoically. I hoped my teammates weren't grinning like idiots.

"You have a lot to live up to," he said. "And a lot to live down."

"I know." I said. I wondered if anyone caught the sadness in my voice.

"We'll need your names and positions."

* * *

Stepping into the bright sunlight outside the hall I felt different- yet nothing had really changed. Our names were on a piece of paper. So what? But now it was official. We were official. It was thinking about the things to come that made my stomach turn. I felt a hand at my shoulder.

"How do you feel?" asked Tercel.

I breathed in and out. "Strange," I said, half-smiling, which was true.

There was a group of people outside, curiously looking at our rides. They stared and muttered things in discouraging tones when they saw us and I felt self-conscious again.

Yeah, we had a lot to live down.

"Come on guys," I said and moved towards my skimmer. I tried to ignore the looks we got while we got onto our rides.

Another scornful look from a bystander and I turned away, feeling waves of anger and doubt roll below my skin. I hoped the people would give us a chance. A second chance for a squadron.

I revved the engine and there was an echo of roars from my team's skimmers. We were in this together.

"Red Eagles, let's fly."


End file.
